Man and Maid

I lay and wondered and wondered what were Alathea's emotions after I

left her. Should I ever know? When the hour was up I went back into the

sitting-room. I had struggled against the awful depression which was

overcoming me. I suppose every man has committed some action he is sorry

and ashamed of, forced thereto by some emotion, either of anger or

desire, which has been too strong for his will to control--. This is the

way murders must often have been committed, and other crimes--I had not

the slightest intention of behaving like a cad--or of doing anything

which I knew would probably part us forever.--If my insult had been

deliberate or planned, I would have held her longer, and knowing I was

going to lose her by my action, I would have profited by it. As I lay on

my bed in great pain from the wrench in getting there alone--I tried to

analyse things. The nervous excitement in which she always plunges me

must have come to the culminating point. The only thing I was glad about

was that I had not attempted to ask forgiveness, or to palliate my

conduct. If I had done so she would undoubtedly have walked straight out

of the hotel--but having just had the sense to leave her to think for a

while--perhaps--?

Well--I was sitting in my chair--feeling some kind of numb

anguish--which I suppose those going to be hanged experience, when

Burton brought in my tea--and I heard no sound of clicking next door--I

asked him as naturally as I could if Miss Sharp had gone--.

"Yes, Sir Nicholas," he answered, and the shock, even though it was

expected, was so great that for a second I closed my eye.

She had left a note, he further added,--putting the envelope down on the

table beside the tray--.

I made myself light a cigarette and not open it, and I made myself say

casually-"I am afraid she feels her brother's death dreadfully, Burton!"

"The poor young lady, Sir Nicholas!--She must have kept up brave like

all the time this morning, and then after lunch when I come in--while

you were resting, Sir--it got too much for her, I expect, sittin'

alone--for she was sobbin' like to break her heart--as I opened the

door. She looked that forlorn and huddled up--give you my word, Sir

Nicholas--I was near blubberin' myself."

"I am so awfully sorry--What did you do, Burton?"

"I said, '--Let me bring you a nice cup of tea, Miss.'--It is always

best to bring ladies tea when they are upset, Sir Nicholas, as you may

know--She thanked me sweet like, as she always does--and I made so bold

as to say how sorry I was, and I did hope she had not had any extra

trouble to deal with over it; and how I'd be so glad to advance her her

next week's salary if it would be any convenience to her--knowing

funerals and doctors is expensive--Out of my own money of course I gave

her to understand--because I knew she'd be bound to refuse yours, Sir

Nicholas.